


Death and Time

by CelestialSeaWitch



Series: Evil Author Day [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Death, EWE, Evil Author Day 2021, F/M, Harmony - Freeform, Master of Death Harry Potter, Post-War, Romance, Time - Freeform, Time Travel, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialSeaWitch/pseuds/CelestialSeaWitch
Summary: The night was one of no consequence for Harry and Hermione. it was just another night they spent hiding in Hermione's bed in Gryffindor Tower, hoping that Headmistress McGonagall wouldn't catch on to their less than innocent get together. What they didn't know, was that it was the night of the Blood Moon. The most extraordinary forms of magic happen under the Witch's Moon. The last one occurred the night Voldemort attacked the Potters. The magic that occurred that night would shatter the timeline beyond repair and force the duo to realize the true purpose of their existence. Harmony. Post-War.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Series: Evil Author Day [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165022
Comments: 162
Kudos: 354





	Death and Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! This is posted for Evil Author Day! For those of you who don't know, that basically means I'm posting something that I might have zero intentions of ever posting for again or updating. This may end up being the story in its entirety. This is a Harmony I've had for a while, so the chances are high, but I thought you'd all greatly enjoy it regardless of if I come back to it or not!
> 
> Warnings: mentions of sex, torture scenes and mentions of previous torture, child abuse, swearing

# 

“How do you keep doing that?” Hermione exclaimed as Harry won yet another game of Exploding Snap.

“Talent,” Harry replied with a smirk. “And ample amounts of distraction.” He winked at her from the end of her small, four-poster bed in the seventh year girls dorm of Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and this fact had, as it always did, distracted Hermione quite thoroughly. 

She pursed her lips into a pout. “It’s not fair.”

“Take your shirt off and I can almost guarantee you’ll win all the other games.”

Hermione’s pout turned into a smirk. “If I take my shirt off there won’t be any more games.”

He winked. “Not Exploding Snap, at least.” 

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes fondly. She leaned across the cards and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re incorrigible.” 

Harry’s answering smile was all charm. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” His fingers touched the base of her skull and gently eased her closer again. Hermione sighed into the kiss. “I love when you do that,” he mumbled against her lips.

Hermione kissed him again and said, “And I love it when you bite my lip.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow rose and when he kissed her he made sure to do just that. “Like that?” Hermione moaned. The cards were quickly scattered across the bedspread as she pressed herself closer to him. Her fingers tangled in his already messy hair. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Harry gasped between kisses. 

“Missy ‘Mione?” a small, high-pitched voice squeaked.

Hermione pulled away from Harry with a gasp. She pushed him down so the house-elf wouldn’t see him before quickly fixing her hair. She cracked the curtains open and ducked her head out. 

A little house-elf was standing in her dorm, waiting with wide eyes and a small smile. “Yes?” Hermione asked tentatively. The house-elves rarely, if ever, appeared to the students outside the kitchens. 

“Headmistress McGonagall, be wanting to speak with you, missy ‘Mione. Very urgent.”

Hermione’s brows rose. She forced herself not to look sidelong at Harry. “Alright… I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Now, missy, please. The headmistress is saying time is very little and be running out.” The little house-elf was wringing her hands nervously, eyes wide.

Hermione nodded. “Okay, I will be there immediately.” She put emphasis on the last word and hoped that would put the little creature at ease. The elf nodded, her ears flapping as she did so, and popped away. Hermione closed the curtains to her bed and turned to Harry.

“Why does McGonagall want to see you?” he asked as he pushed himself up on an elbow.

Hermione shrugged. “No clue. It sounds serious though.” They eyed each other silently. “Grab your cloak.” Harry’s answering smile was terribly devious. 

“You should grab some trousers,” he teased.

She poked his shoulder sharply. “And you a shirt.”

He grabbed her hip as she moved to exit the bed and pulled her close, his lips brushed her ear. “Don’t forget knickers.” Her cheeks flushed and she shoved him so she could sneak out of bed in only Harry’s quidditch jersey. 

Once properly clothed again, Harry snuck out of the girls' dorm under the cover of his invisibility cloak behind a fast-paced Hermione. Hermione didn’t even glance over her shoulder as she whispered to him, “Don’t enter the office. Headmistress McGonagall will undoubtedly know. But you should be able to hear from the other side.”

“Have you got the mirror?” he whispered in her ear on the opposite side she had thought him to be on. She barely managed not to turn in his direction. She nodded. Harry had given her Sirius’ mirror piece for her birthday. “Activate it so I can hear into the room, in case they use a  _ silencio _ .” Hermione nodded again. She paused and pulled the mirror from her pocket. After activating it, Hermione quickly pocketed it again and continued her brisk pace towards the Headmistress’ Office. 

They passed by one of the large, eastward facing windows and Hermione’s eyes widened. She slowed down until she stopped, her eyes locked on the moon just outside. The glowing orb was massive where it hung in the sky, far larger than normal. The moon was blood red.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

“What?” Harry questioned immediately. “Why does the moon look like that?”

“It’s the Witch’s Moon. The Moon of Hecate. A — this night will be more powerful than All Hallows Eve. I hadn’t even realized…” She turned her head to where Harry was suddenly standing, the invisibility cloak removed. “The Moon of Hecate rarely happens. The second to last time it did was when Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. Some claim that the only reason Dumbledore was able to defeat him was because he had harnessed the magic of the Moon of Hecate.”

“Did he?” Harry had often wondered himself how Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald. If the Elder Wand were truly so powerful, it shouldn't be so simple to take from whomever's allegiance the wand held before. 

Hermione shrugged and shook her head. “I’ve no idea. Possibly? Knowing Dumbledore…?”

“Probably,” Harry finished. He studied the red moon seriously. “When was the last time?”

“McGonagall said there isn’t much time…” Hermione’s eyes flickered across the large red moon in the dark night sky, avoiding Harry’s eye.

“ _ Hermione _ …”

She looked at him sidelong and nervously said, “The night Voldemort attacked your parents. That was the last Witch’s Moon.” Harry’s jaw clenched but he didn’t seem overly surprised at the revelation. “Powerful things happen during the Moon of Hecate,” Hermione softly explained, “but powerful does not always mean good.”

“No,” Harry quietly explained, “it doesn’t.” They stood in silence for a moment longer before Harry sighed. “We should go.”

Hermione nodded. Harry threw the cloak back over himself and the two continued towards the Headmistress’ Office. They got no more than two paces when it happened. The entire castle shook with a low tremor that seemed to rise from the foundations themselves. A ripple of magic flooded the halls and every candle suddenly flickered out. Harry and Hermione froze in the darkness, bathed in the red moonlight of the Witch’s Moon. 

The hall was silent. Hogwarts’ magic flooded the long hallway. The tension pressed in on Hermione’s chest and made it difficult to breathe. Her hand reached out instinctively for Harry’s but he was nowhere to be found. No one moved. No one spoke. Not even the paintings seemed to have magic enough to stir in the sudden darkness and magic.

The shadows at the end of the hall drew dense. The darkness crept forward like a rolling mist and stopped before it reached the glow of the red moon that still encompassed Harry and Hermione. 

A figure stood at the edge of the darkness. An impossibly tall, thin figure in a black suit and tie. The skin revealed at his throat was white as a sheet and wrinkled. Hermione did not see him. Her attention had turned to the massive window and the glow of the red moon. 

Harry watched, transfixed as the figure said nothing. He only stood before them with his one withered old hand clutching a scythe. His other hand came forward at hip level, his fingers outstretched as if to grab something. 

The invisibility cloak that covered Harry was suddenly ripped from his body. The young wizard’s seeker reflexes kicked in and he grabbed the cloak in his left hand before it disappeared from his possession entirely and into that of… Death.

Death’s hand disappeared into the darkness near his body. Harry watched him on bated breath. He didn’t move from where he stood between the red glow of the moon and the darkness beyond, on the cusp of Death’s domain. When the skeletal hand returned to Harry’s half shadowed area, it was holding two objects — the elder wand, and the resurrection stone.

Harry sucked in a harsh breath between clenched teeth. He shook his head. “No,” he said and his voice echoed through the hallway. “They’re yours.” Death did not move. “I don’t want them,” Harry insisted. 

Death remained still. 

Harry could feel the magical pull drawing him towards both objects. His brows drew together. He didn’t want either of those objects. He didn’t want the ghosts of the past haunting him or the power of the wand destroying him. Being powerful was not always good. Harry looked up at Death. He couldn’t see his face, only the outline of a sharp jaw and weathered flesh. He looked to where he thought eyes should have been and a chill ran down his spine. 

“Please,” he whispered.

Death took a step closer.

Harry sucked in a breath of surprise. He hadn’t realized the shadows had grown closer. He could feel the shadows around him. The darkness licked at his fingers and tugged on his clothes as if wanting to draw him in deeper. The magical tension in the air grew so tight Harry thought it might snap. 

He had no choice, he realized. Harry raised his hands. The left clutched the invisibility cloak tightly and the right opened upward to receive the two other Hallows. Slowly, as if time itself were being stalled, Death placed the objects in Harry’s hand. The tips of his pale fingers brushed Harry’s skin and the young wizard gasped at the coldness of it -- at the power. 

Death released his hold on the scythe and it magically stood tall of its own volition. His hand joined the other and cupped the back of Harry’s hand which now held the two remaining Hallows. Harry’s hand shook and he cried out as magic flooded him. Blackness filled his veins, slowly rising up his arm and through his body. Harry’s entire arm shook and his teeth ground together painfully. 

Death released him and Harry fell to his knees. He was shaking and a cold sheen of sweat covered his body. He flexed his hand, but the pain was gone. Belatedly, he realized the Hallows had disappeared as well -- even the cloak was gone. Harry looked up as he breathed heavily. Death was gone. In his place was the scythe. It stood tall and powerful, magic thrumming off of it. Harry’s hand itched to touch it.

Hermione whimpered.

Harry’s head whipped around and his eyes widened at the sight of her. She stood directly before the massive window. Her entire body was bathed in the red of the Witch’s Moon. The blonde highlights of her hair looked as red as the moon itself. 

“Hermione?” Harry rasped, his throat raw and he wondered briefly if he’d been screaming when Death’s magic had him. “Hermione?” he called again when she didn’t respond. He dragged himself to his feet and exited the shadows. The second he left the darkness he felt weaker. His eyes narrowed and he grimaced but persevered.

Hermione’s eyes were wide as she stared out the window at the moon. She did not blink. Harry touched Hermione’s waist and she gasped dramatically. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Harry leapt forward and caught her before she hit the floor. He fell with her and hissed as his arm scraped against the stone floor. 

The red light glowed brighter. Harry’s eyes squeezed shut and he looked away, his hand blindly covered Hermione’s eyes as he did. The magic of the Witch’s Moon flared across the hallway with burning hotness. Harry curled around Hermione’s limp body and tried to protect her from the red hot magic. It grew even more powerful. Harry’s body tensed.

And then they were gone.

* * *

It was nearly midnight and the town had finally died down. Children had finished their door-knocking hours before and the adults were either holed up in their homes eating chocolates not taken by little hands or enclosed in the pub with drinks aplenty. 

James and Lily Potter were of the former group. They had dressed Harry up in a lion costume and though they couldn’t go out trick or treating themselves, they had played games and plied the baby with far too many sweets. James was currently camped out on the couch with a bowl of wizarding treats in his lap. He ripped open a package of a mini chocolate cauldron and popped it in his mouth.

“James Fleamont Potter!” Lily stage whispered harshly as she exited the kitchen.

James jumped and swallowed. He made a face as the chocolate cauldron went down his throat painfully. “Merlin, Lily. What’d I do this time?”

Lily smacked the parchment in her hand up the back of his head before shoving the note in his hand. “This just came by owl.”

James took the note and fixed his too large square glasses. His eyes quickly scanned the note. He jumped to his feet. “ _ It’s James _ ,” he quoted in confusion. “What the hell does that mean?  _ It’s James _ . I’m James!” He frowned at the note they’d received from Dumbledore. “ _ Come quickly _ ?” He looked around confusedly. “We should call Sirius to watch Harry.”

“It’s Halloween,” Lily deadpanned. At best, Sirius was already pissed. At worse, he was passed out in a broom closet, thinking he had gotten lucky.

James nodded once. “I’ll get our bags, you grab the baby.” Lily nodded and disappeared upstairs. James went to the window seat where they had stashed their emergency supplies for a quick getaway. 

Lily met him at the front door, Harry sleeping soundly in her arms. His messy black hair was stuck up around his head, the only part of him visible beyond the pale blue baby blanket he was wrapped in. James wrapped his arms around the two of them and in a moment, they had apparated away.

They appeared in the forest by Hogsmeade. James stepped back from Lily and Harry and lit the end of his wand. The  _ lumos _ glowed softly in the darkness of the forest. James moved silently towards a massive tree. He kicked the leaves and twigs away from the base of it to reveal a large wood door. He hiked the duffle bag up higher on his shoulder before bending down and pulling the heavy wood door open.

“You could just use magic,” Lily whispered.

James looked up at her and grinned charmingly. “But then you wouldn’t get to admire how strong and handsome your husband is.” She smiled and shook her head. He winked and hopped down the hole, completely bypassing the stairs that Lily took after him. Once they were inside the large chamber, James flicked his wand and the door slowly creaked closed. He made sure to cast another spell that would cover the doorway once more with the foliage of the forest floor. 

Fully encased in the darkness of the passageway, James raised the intensity of the  _ lumos _ spell on his wand. He took Lily’s hand and slowly guided his family through the passageway. It wasn’t as long as the others to traverse and soon enough the small family was surrounded by stone walls instead of dirt. They headed up the various flights of stairs until they reached a massive floor to ceiling window. The window looked out upon the fourth-floor hallway, a mirror if one were looking from the other side.

James gently pushed the two-way mirror and it swung open like a door. He helped Lily through before closing it behind them. Both sighed in relief once they were safely within the walls of Hogwarts. It was one of the first times they’d truly left Godric's Hollow in months. Harry had been born in that house and he hadn’t left it since. James and Lily had hardly been allowed to leave since the prophecy had been revealed. 

James pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple as if he could read her mind and where her thoughts had gone. “Come on, love.” He took Lily’s hand once more and they quietly made their way through Hogwarts to the Hospital Wing. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the Headmaster’s office first?”

Lily shook her head. “The note seemed a bit frantic. I’m thinking whoever they think is you, is hurt.” 

James’ brows drew together as he thought that over. He leaned towards her and whispered, “You know I’m me, right?”

Lily smirked. “If you’re not, my husband might have a few words about what we did after dinner.”

“And before breakfast,” he added with a shit-eating grin. He winked. “And last night.”

Lily was shaking her head as she smiled broadly. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” James snickered. 

When they entered the Hospital Wing, there were exclamations all around. 

“James!” 

“You’re here!”

“But then…?”

James pointed to the black-haired youth on the bed. “Who the hell is that?” He looked exactly like James, eerily so.

McGonagall rushed James and pulled him into a tight hug. She pulled back and held the young man’s face in her hands. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

James gently removed Minerva’s grip from his face. “‘Course I’m alright, Minnie. What’s wrong with him? You thought he was me?”

“He looks like you,” Lily commented as she rested the still sleeping Harry on the next bed over. She stepped close and studied the young, dark-haired wizard. The hair was the same and even the lips and jawline. Lily thought that maybe the nose was off a bit, but nothing anyone could have noticed if they weren’t comparing the two wizards directly. “Remarkably so.” She checked the bedside table and found a pair of coke bottle glasses.

“We found him on the fourth floor,” Dumbledore explained. He grasped James' shoulder and gave him a short smile, happy that James was okay but concerned that they seemed to have a double on their hands. “He and his friend were both unconscious.”

James and Lily looked over to the other bed, occupied by a young witch. Neither recognized her. James shrugged. “I don’t recognize either of them. Beyond, you know, looking in a mirror.”

Madam Pomfrey finally emerged from her office and smiled triumphantly when she saw James and Lily. “I told you the boy wasn’t James. He isn’t using polyjuice, but he certainly isn’t James. I’ve treated James Potter. I  _ know _ James Potter.” She touched the young man’s cheek gently before giving him a small slap. 

“Oi!” 

“That’s for not owling,” she scolded lightly before turning and smiling kindly at Lily. James pouted as he rubbed his cheek. 

“Can you tell us anything about the boy, Poppy?” Lily asked politely from the teenager’s bedside.

Poppy pursed her lips before she nodded sharply. “He has… several past injuries. One of which was a magical regrowing of the bones in his right arm. I… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was the one that did it.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he thought that over. “But you’re sure you’ve never treated this boy before?”

“Absolutely positive.”

“And his other injuries?”

Poppy adopted a nervous, borderline upset expression upon her lined face. “There are many. I would venture to say they were quidditch related if there weren’t so many of them and… if they didn’t date back so far.”

Minerva frowned, not liking the way that sounded. “How far back, Poppy? What sort of injuries are we talking about?”

The old Madam sighed heavily. “As far back as eighteen months old. Sprains, bruises, and cuts… all in places no one would see.”

“Abused?”

She nodded. “I believe so. There’s more.” She stepped up to the bedside and pulled the young wizard’s arm from beneath the sheet. She turned it to show a long, deep scar along the inside of his left forearm. “This was done by a magical dagger. An athame, often used in dark rituals.”

James touched Lily’s wrist protectively as if he wanted to pull her away from the bed. “He’s a dark wizard?”

Poppy shook her head. “No, an athame is used on the  _ sacrifice _ of a dark ritual. I magically traced the scar, he would have gotten it when he was fourteen.” She pulled up the sleeve of his hospital shirt and pointed to a small bite wound. “This is from a snake, although I don’t know what sort of snake it was, the wound seems to have been treated.”

“When was this one?” James asked.

“Less than a year ago. Approximately six months, maybe more.” Poppy took a deep, shuddering breath as she set the arm back down. “This is the final one,” she whispered as she moved the boy’s bangs aside. The others all leaned in to see the lightning bolt scar on his forehead above his right eye. “It’s from… dark curses leave marks behind in the shape of the wand movement needed to cast them.”

James looked at Poppy but she did not elaborate. He turned to Dumbledore. “What curse is this?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were wide. He shook his head in disbelief. “The Killing Curse.” Everyone gasped.

McGonagall swallowed. “But that’s… Albus, that’s impossible.”

Dumbledore ignored this and turned to Madam Pomfrey. “How old was he when he was hit with the curse?”

Poppy hesitated before responding with a quiet, “Eighteen months.”

Lily slowly shook her head, tears in her eyes. She stormed around the bed to the opposite side and crouched down next to the boy’s head. 

“Lily?” James questioned.

“You missed one,” Lily responded, talking to Poppy but staring at the boy. Her fingers were in his hair, gently pushing it back from his ear. “There’s a scar here, on his ear. The cat gave it to him and despite my best efforts it scarred anyways.” Lily’s face crumpled as her tears fell. “He cried for hours,” she sobbed.

“No…” James shook his head, not daring to believe it.

Lily nodded. “It’s him, it’s Harry.”

“No!” James stumbled back. “That’s -- what?” He turned towards the little baby sleeping in the bed next to the fully grown wizard. “It’s not… Lily, it can’t be.”

“James,” Dumbledore interjected calmly, “I think we need to entertain the idea that it might just be.”

Lily sobbed. She shook her head and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “You said he was abused?”

Poppy shook her head. “I’m sorry.” 

Minerva took Poppy’s hand comfortingly. “What about the girl?” she asked softly, hoping for some sort of positive change of topic. The look on Poppy’s face did not inspire confidence.

“No major injuries until later. She had a scar across her abdomen from a dark curse. It should have split her open but she must have used some sort of defence. I… I healed it.” She shook her head and shrugged. “I’ve never met her either. Otherwise, beyond mild malnourishment for about a year, which she shares with… with the boy. There’s…” Poppy sighed and shook her head. “A cursed blade was used to…” 

Poppy couldn’t explain more. She went to the girl’s side and pulled the collar of her hospital shirt down. There was a red line along the girl’s throat. “It wasn’t self-inflicted, I’m positive. It was done when… this happened.” She reached across the bed and raised the girl’s left arm. The word  _ mudblood _ had been carved into her skin.

Lily gasped and turned away. James came around and brought his wife into his arms. He couldn’t take his eyes off the wound. “When did she…?”

“Several months ago. Probably around the same time that… the boy… got his snake bite. Hers, however, seemed to have been accompanied by the Cruciatus Curse. There are the remains of the counter potion in her system.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “That potion is only ever used in very extreme cases of overexposure to the Cruciatus.”

Poppy nodded once. “Yes.” She gently set the girl’s arm down again. “She’s due for another potion when she wakes up or she’ll start having side effects. I… I believe she had a  _ very _ severe case.”

“They’re just children!” Lily shouted.

James pressed Lily’s face into his chest and held her tightly. Lily clutched at James’ back, her fingers fisted in his jumper. James looked over her head at Dumbledore. “How did they get here? If he is who we… how’s that even possible?”

Albus slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid I have no clue. We’ll have to wait for them to awaken and ask for ourselves.”

“James!” a voice boomed into the silence. The group jumped and turned to see a distraught Hagrid running towards them, tears streaming down his face. Lily managed to jump out of her husband’s arms just in time for the half-giant to wrap the tall wizard up in a bone-crushing hug. “You’re okay! You’re alright! I was so worried!”

James wheezed and patted Hagrid on the back. His feet dangled nearly a foot from the ground. 

Lily smiled despite herself. “Uhm… Hagrid?” The bearded man gasped and turned to Lily. He dropped James who collapsed to the ground.

“Lily!” He stumbled forward and James expertly rolled out of the way. Hagrid stopped just short of picking Lily up and settled for placing a heavy hand on her head. “You’re both okay. And little Harry?”

Lily couldn’t help the way her heart was racing at the worry and fear in her friend’s voice. She gestured to the bed, “He’s sleeping, what’s going on?”

Hagrid’s eyes widened and he let out a breath of relief. “The wards fell,” he revealed. “At Godric’s Hollow! Sirius… he must have told  _ You-Know-Who _ …”

James jumped to his feet. “What? No! Sirius would  _ never _ ! Are you sure the wards fell? I…” He gestured to Lily. “We would know if that happened. Wouldn’t we?”

Dumbledore’s brows furrowed at that. “Perhaps not.” It had not gone beyond his notice that it was the Witch’s Moon that night and he was waiting for  _ something _ to happen. Foolishly, he had hoped it was the odd arrival of two strangers in the school. “It’s the Moon of Hecate tonight and if anyone can harness the powers of that moon, it’s Voldemort.” The others flinched at the name.

Hagrid nodded. “The house is gone. Completely destroyed. Sirius betrayed you, he was your secret keeper and—”

“No,” James interrupted with grim finality. He shook his head. “Sirius wasn’t our secret keeper.” The others all turned to him, eyes wide. “It was Peter.” There was a long silence. James stared at the stone floor, his shoulders hunched and his breathing heavy. Finally, he looked up again. “We need to find Sirius. The second he hears, he’ll go after Peter.”

McGonagall nodded. “I’ll go with Alastor and we’ll find him.” She left the Hospital Wing in a flurry of robes.

“Someone should tell Remus as well,” Lily put in quickly. Pinched expressions met her statement. “I told you lot he wasn’t the spy! We know that now, it was Peter! We need to get him out of there. We should have ages ago.”

“She’s right,” James agreed with a nod. “And if Peter squealed on us, he’ll tell about Remus next. We need to bring him in from the werewolf packs.” The Potters turned to Dumbledore. The old wizard stroked his beard as he thought it over. He nodded once.

“I’ll go,” Hagrid volunteered. “The packs don’t take kindly to wizarding folk, but I reckon they’d be fine with me. I’ll grab Remus.”

“Very good, Hagrid,” Dumbledore approved. “Be careful. Leave immediately if it becomes too dangerous. I will also send a letter to Remus if you aren’t able to contact him, but you should be able to get there first.” Hagrid nodded once before leaving. The headmaster turned back to the others. “For now, we will see to our guests. Perhaps we can create a potion to determine their identities?”

“A heredity potion?” Lily guessed.

“Exactly, my dear.”

Lily frowned as she glanced at the girl. “That’ll only work if we have a relative's hair or nail clippings. We’ll be able to check if…” Her gaze drifted to the black-haired wizard sleeping peacefully away, “…if he’s…Harry.”

“He’s not,” James insisted. 

Lily glanced at him. “The potion will tell us for sure.”

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. “While we’re at it, we’ll need to make a potion for the girl. For the curse. Would you assist me, my dear?” Lily nodded. She kissed her husband chastely before checking on the baby and finally departing with the healer. 

Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on James’ back. “The Moon of Hecate has been known to do wildly magical things when she arises. These people, whoever they might be, may not be who we think they are.” James crossed his arms and said nothing. “And if they were… well, they certainly aren’t anymore.” At James’ confused look, the headmaster said, “Time is a tricky thing. It is one of only a few very powerful magics in this world. If one pays close enough attention, they can feel the shift in the powers.”

“Because of them?” He nodded to the two teenagers.

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled, “or perhaps there are other powers at play. Only time will tell.” He patted James on the back. “I will leave you to guard our guests with young Harry. They should be asleep for several days, Madam Pomfrey says they arrived completely magically exhausted.” 

James nodded. His eyes did not stray from the teenage look-alike before him. Even long after Dumbledore had left, James continued to stare at the young man. His son? His eyes slowly slid from the wizard’s bed to that of the one his eighteen-month-old son was sleeping in. Eighteen months. That’s when the abuse had started, Poppy had said. 

Godric's Hollow was gone. Peter was a spy. Sirius was in the wind. And his son was supposed to have been chosen by  _ You _ — by  _ Voldemort _ . James stepped towards the toddler. He touched the soft skin of his child’s forehead.  _ And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal. _ James looked at the older version of his son, the younger version of himself. Voldemort could only mark one wizard as his equal. Perhaps, he already had?

* * *

“ _ I think he’s waking up _ ,” a female voice whispered.

“ _ ‘course he is, dove, you’re practically yelling, _ ” a male voice hissed back. Both sounded as if they were coming from almost directly above him.

“ _ Am not! _ ”

“ _ Are too! _ ” A chill fell over the room and Harry shivered.

“ _ Oh! He twitched… Quickly now. _ ”

Harry opened his eyes. There was no one standing above him. Light filtered through the window and lit up the grey ceiling above, blurry but familiar. He squinted at the bedside table and sure enough, there were his glasses. Clarity. Harry wasn’t even surprised to find himself in the hospital wing. The war was well and truly over and yet here he was, in the hospital wing. He sighed.

A small movement in the bed one over caught his eye and Harry’s brows quickly drew together. Was that… a baby? He looked around in confusion but got only so far as the foot of his bed when his breath was stolen from him. Slouched in a chair, arms crossed, and dead asleep was none other than James Potter. 

Harry's heart started racing.  _ What the bloody hell was going on? _

He tore his eyes away from the very real, very alive picture of his father and finally he saw Hermione. Harry had only thrown back the covers when James startled awake. The older wizard’s eyes locked on Harry. They stared at each other, both frozen, for a long moment.

As if a light bulb had finally gone off, alerting James to the fact that Harry was awake, he jumped to his feet and took a step closer. Harry swiftly slipped from the bed and took a step back, effectively placing himself between James and Hermione should the imposter prove hostile.

James blinked in astonishment at the action. He opened his mouth but Harry spoke first. “Who are you?”

That was not what James had been expecting. Who was he? Who was  _ he _ ? “I’m James bloody Potter, who the hell are you?” Harry flicked his wrist in what James instantly knew to be a move to draw one’s wand. No wand came forth from the holster Poppy had removed. James took advantage of Harry’s moment of confusion and drew his own wand. He held it up defensively. “Answer the question.”

Harry glared in annoyance at his hands. He turned his glare on his father. “James Potter is dead.” James flinched. He’d already guessed as much, if this person really was his Harry, but that didn’t make the truth any easier to hear. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but it’s not working.”

James raised his right hand and slowly slipped a ring from his finger. His hard hazel eyes did not stray from Harry’s emerald ones. He tossed the ring to Harry. The younger wizard deftly caught it. He gave James a suspicious look as he inspected the golden ring, a ruby set at the centre and engravings surrounding it. “It’s the Potter ring,” James revealed. Harry looked up, surprised. He’d never heard of such a thing before, but that fact did not surprise him much. “You can feel the magic in it?” 

Harry looked back down at the ring. It emanated some sort of magical aura, a charm of some kind. Harry wasn’t sure how he knew it was a charm, but the knowledge seemed to come to him almost instinctively. He nodded.

“Only a Potter can wear it.” James nodded to the ring. “The crest is on the back.” Harry flipped it over and sure enough, there was the Potter crest. “Put it on.”

Harry looked up. His eyes were wide. “What?”

“You’re… you’re him right?” James said as he looked at the baby. 

Harry’s heart nearly leapt into his throat as he looked back towards the baby in the bed. “That’s… that’s…?” He shook his head. “What year is it?”

“Put the ring on,” James insisted with a low, authoritative voice. “Once I… once I  _ know _ , then we’ll talk.” Harry met his father’s gaze steadily. He slipped the ring on. The ruby glowed brightly before going back to its natural lustre. James’ shoulders fell and his wand dropped to his side. “ _ Fuck _ . Harry?”

Harry licked his lips nervously. “The hell is going on?”

James laughed humorlessly. “I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”

“The year?”

“1981.” Harry’s breath caught. James studied the younger wizard closely when he furthered his response with a gentle, “November first.” Harry shook his head. He leapt over the bed and moved to the baby’s side. “Oi! What’re you doing?” James raced over to where his son was inspecting… himself? Harry touched the unblemished forehead of the toddler, much the same way his father had only a few hours prior. 

“Shit,” Harry cursed. He moved past James and raced around the beds to Hermione’s side. “Hermione! Hermione, wake up!”

“Hey!” James came around to the other side of the witch’s bed. “Let her sleep, she’s magically exhausted. So are you, not that you seem to care.”

“Hermione!” Harry hollered again, ignoring James completely. Baby Harry squirmed in his bed and began to cry at the rude awakening. James cursed and went to comfort his son. “Come on, love,” Harry whispered into Hermione’s ears. “I need you to wake up now. Please.”

Slowly, as if weighed down by a thousand pounds, Hermione’s eyes started to blink open. 

“What on earth is going on here?” Harry jumped to attention at Madam Pomfrey’s sharp reprimand. He glanced at the much younger looking matron guiltily and shuffled his feet. James rocked the crying toddler in his arms and glanced between his older son and the irate witch. “Well?” she questioned sharply when neither responded. 

“Healing?” Harry responded innocently and accompanied it with a boyish shrug. James grinned at the response. 

Hermione moaned and shifted in the bed. “Harry?” she mumbled, still not fully awake.

Poppy narrowed her eyes and marched over to Hermione’s bedside. “She is  _ not _ supposed to be awake yet.” She came up next to Harry, a stern expression on her face and he flinched away but didn’t leave Hermione’s side. James' smile slid off his face at the reaction — a reaction he’d often seen Sirius make when he’d still lived at home and even years after he’d left. He hugged baby Harry close to him and pressed a kiss to the grumpy toddler’s head. 

Poppy raised an eyebrow at the young wizard beside her. “Are you going to move from her side?”

“Not a chance.”

Poppy sighed and glared at James. “Definitely a Potter.” James gave her an easy grin in response that was bellied only by the tension in his eyes. “Go back to sleep, my dear. Everything is fine.”

“Not fine,” Harry cut in. He leaned towards Hermione. “Everything is not fine. Come on, Hermione.” Hermione stirred and her eyelashes fluttered but she did not wake.

“Now, really,” Poppy scolded, “I must insist—”

“What is going on?” a voice asked from the door. Harry’s eyes flickered to the door and his breath caught. Lily Potter stood in the door to the hospital wing. Her eyes locked on Harry, hovering over Hermione’s bed, and her eyes widened. “Oh… you’re awake.” Harry didn’t respond. His breath had been stolen from him and he honestly didn’t think he’d get it back anytime soon.

He was so thoroughly distracted by the sudden presence of his mother that he didn’t even notice when Poppy placed a hand on his arm to move him away from Hermione. He was utterly transfixed. His mother. His  _ mother _ . It suddenly hit Harry that yes, this was happening — whatever  _ this _ was. 

Lily slowly stepped around Hermione’s bed. She appeared wary of him and Harry closed his dropped jaw. He must look like an utter lunatic. “Hi,” she greeted tentatively.

Harry’s words caught in his throat.

“Prongs!” a familiar voice shouted. The group spun towards the doors as a raven-haired wizard in a leather jacket raced into the room. “You’re okay! Lily! Merlin.” He wrapped Lily up in a tight hug and spun her around. “Do you know how frantic I was? Where the hell is that bloody -- who the fuck is this?”

Harry knew he looked like a lunatic now -- a crazily smiling lunatic who looked like he could fly he was so bloody elated. “Padfoot!”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“Harry,” he claimed with a crooked little smile. James’ eyes widened. He had known, they’d proven it, but to  _ hear _ it. Lily’s eyes watered over as she stared sadly at her grown-up son.

Sirius’ eyes flickered to the tired and grumpy toddler in James’ arms before he looked back to the adult version. “Harry?”

The Chosen One smirked. “Harry Potter.”

And that’s when the earth began to shake.

* * *

_ Hermione raced through the golden and glittery halls of the temple. Her long golden robes swished about her ankles. The halls seemed endless. She wasn’t moving fast enough. Ironically, there wasn’t enough time. _

_ A deep, ominous banging echoed through the temple. They were at the temple doors. Once they were through — Hermione shuddered.  _

_ This was it, she knew. She had lost this battle — but not the war. _

_ Her reflection caught in one of the mirrors embedded into the wall. She ran past, a blur of brown curls and tanned skin. Her robes shimmered with the metallic colour and the heavy presence of magic that surrounded her. _

_ Massive, ornate doors came into view. She did not pause, pushing through their heavyweight so that the doors swung open magically. The main room of the temple was massive and elaborate. The vaulted ceilings provided room for the massive, moving time turner that hung magically at the centre of the domed glass roof. Gears clicked and moved along the walls. The floor beneath the time turner was made up of multiple concentric circles detailing the hours, days, weeks, and the years — the Circles of Time. Everything glittered with gold.  _

_ Hermione rushed across the floor to the centre of the moving concentric circles where a delicate podium stood. She froze, her golden eyes widened in horror. _

_ It was gone. _

_ Hermione turned around. A tall, darkly robed figure holding a scythe stood before her. The banging continued.“What have you done?” she whispered. _

_ “What needed to be done,” his voice slithered across her dangerously. _

_ “Where is it?” _

_ “Safe.” _

_ “I am it’s guardian,” she protested vehemently. “That is for  _ me _ to decide!” _

_ “It’s too late. They’re here. They have you.” There was a pause. “They will break you.” _

_ She glared. The gold in her eyes glowed in fury. “They might break me, but they will never get the truth.” _

_ Death’s hand rose. The pale, bony fingers touched her cheek gently. “It was an honour to serve at your side, High Priestess.” _

_ A golden tear fell down her cheek. Hermione shook her head. “Please don’t do this. There’s another way. I can — I’m sure I could…” She didn’t know what she could do. There was nothing left — no one left.  _

_ “Everything must come to an end,” Death whispered. She closed her eyes, her tears streamed freely down her cheeks. He stepped closer to her and the chill that always followed him surrounded her comfortingly. “Even us.” _

_ The banging echoed around them. _

_ Her eyes opened again and they glowed gold. The glow did not fade. “No.” Magic filled the air and made it difficult to breathe. Death’s eyes slowly widened as he watched her. Her golden eyes met his hidden ones.“The Blood Moon.” _

_ He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. “High Priestess…” _

_ “Go,” she ordered as she moved back to the podium. “I will spare you as much time as I can. You know what you must do.” She waved her hand over the podium and glittering lights flared to life. An orb of magic sparked and circled over the podium. The Circles of Time on the floor began to move faster. The time-turner above them glowed and began to hum. _

_ “High Priestess-” _

_ “-Go!” she ordered sharply. Her fierce gaze met his once more. She could feel his sadness, his panic. Hermione softened. “I have just enough left to do my part.” She took a breath. “But I won’t see you, nor you, me. The Artifact shall remain hidden.” Another deep breath. “It is for the best.” _

_ Death stepped forward and pushed back his hood. Raven hair and bright green eyes stared sadly at her. Harry clasped her hands tightly.  _

_ The banging held a steady beat in the background. They didn’t have time for this. Neither could let go. _

_ Harry leaned over the podium and the glowing ball of magic. “I  _ will _ see you again… Time.” _

_ Hermione smiled at him lovingly. “Choose wisely, my love. I’d never forgive you if you got it wrong.” _

_ “It’s already been chosen,” he whispered against her lips. _

_ “I know,” she breathed back. Her eyes glared a bit brighter as she saw through Time. “I chose.” Harry pressed his lips against hers, hard and desperate. Hermione sobbed as he stepped back. By the time she managed to open her eyes again, he was gone. _

_ The temple shuddered. The wards fell.  _

_ Hermione’s hand hovered over the ball of magic. The entire room glowed brightly. The time-turner turned above her head. Time slowed. Hermione shimmered as the Time magic cascaded over her form. She disappeared.  _

_ Hermione stood in the hallway of the old and powerful school of Hogwarts. The young witch before her gasped, her eyes on the Blood Moon. Hermione waited as the Blood Moon did its magic. The witch was enthralled. The magic of Time, amplified by the power of the Blood Moon filled the halls. She could feel her magic brush against Death’s as he cast his spell. She took comfort in the small chill his aura cast over hers.  _

_ Her golden eyes studied the soft, whiskey coloured ones of the witch. Young, too young. But she had already proven herself to be true — a true vessel. Hermione had hoped she would never have to do this. But she was Time and she knew it would happen eventually. She had planned for this. _

_ The wizard behind her stood, calling her name. Hermione’s eyes cast over the young man, her eyes seemed to see through him. Death had left his touch on the boy. He would be gone then. Hermione allowed herself one final tear for her love.  _

_ The boy’s fingers touched the girl’s wrist and she gasped dramatically as the magic of the Blood Moon finally fled her system. It was done.  _

_ They fell to the floor together, the girl was passed out from the magic transferral. The boy was still awake, a survivor not unlike his patron. Hermione raised her hand and the entire room flared hot as the time magic activated. The two vessels disappeared. _

_ The temple formed before her eyes. Time moved once more.  _

_ The temple was silent. No banging echoed through the glittering halls. They were already here. _

_ The Ancient Ones had arrived. _

_ The doors to the main chamber were thrown open with a loud  _ bang _. Hermione looked up and met the cold, cruel eyes of War.  _

_ War smiled slowly. “My, my, my… after all this… _ Time _.” She cackled. Her wild black curls fell about her face as her emancipated form shook with hysterical laughter. Her vessel, a disturbed and psychotic Bellatrix Lestrange, stumbled into the room.  _

_ Hermione’s lips pinched. She swallowed. “Leave this place.” She hoped Bellatrix did not hear the tremble in her voice. _

_ War pursed her lips and a mocking face took over her once pretty visage. “Oh, little Angel of Time, are you scared?” She moved closer, across the glowing floors. The ground turned black and cracked beneath her. The temple halls behind her were dark instead of gold. The only light emanating from them was caused by the glowing hellfire from beneath the cracks. The smell of gunfire and burnt flesh filled the air.  _

_ War smiled, her grey eyes hooded. “You should be.” _

_ “I don’t have it,” Hermione explained quickly. She stepped back, her eyes wary on the powerful woman.  _

_ War’s eyes narrowed, a frown marred her face. “You are its protector.” _

_ “It’s gone.” _

_ “I don’t believe you!” Bellatrix exploded.  _

_ The gears in the walls exploded. Hermione ducked and screamed.  _

_ Bellatrix’s foot touched the first concentric circle on the floor and the massive time-turner before them cracked loudly. Hermione gasped in pain as the Circles of Time were damaged. Her hand clutched her chest as she fell to her knees. The crazed woman before her smiled. “Oops.” _

_ “Please,” Hermione begged. “I don’t have it.” _

_ Bellatrix took another step forward and more cracks appeared in the time-turner. Hermione whimpered. The black of War’s magic slowly spread through the room. Golden gears and glittering objects fell to the floor with dull metallic sounds.  _

_ Bellatrix swiped out her hand and threw the podium aside. Hermione tried to crawl away. War grabbed hold of her ankle and dragged her to the centre of the Circles of Time. She straddled the gasping High Priestess and planted her hands on the second to last circle. Everything was black. The time-turner was nearly destroyed. The only gold left in the room was the final Circle of Time beneath Hermione’s head like a halo.  _

_ “Tell me,” War ordered. _

_ Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m telling you I don’t know. It’s gone.” _

_ “You’re lying!” _

_ “Please!” _

_ Bellatrix slammed her hands down on either side of Hermione’s head, on the final Circle of Time. The time-turner shattered above them. Hermione threw her head back and screamed as the glass and sand rained down upon them.  _

_ War’s hands clasped around Hermione’s throat, cutting off her pain-filled scream. Long fingers, blackened at their ends and pointed with brittle nails cut deeply into Hermione’s neck. The High Priestess gasped for air. She struggled uselessly against War’s strong grip. _

_ A cold breath of air touched Hermione’s cheek. _

_ “Now, my love,” Harry’s voice whispered in her ear.  _

_ Hermione looked up through the shattered down. The Blood Moon glowed brightly over them. The High Priestess of Time arched as her magic fled her. Her corporeal form fell into glittering gold dust.  _

_ War screamed. She stood in the blackened hall of the Time’s temple and glared venomously up at the Blood Moon. “Bitch!” she screamed to the moon and the Priestess that had fled. “We will find you! And We will take back what - is -  _ ours _!” _

* * *

Hermione gasped awake.

She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know what was going on around her. All she knew for certain was one thing — the Longbottom’s were being attacked by Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed as he quickly rushed to take her hand. 

Hermione sat up quickly. Her eyes locked on Harry and an odd feeling like a forgotten memory stirred in the back of her mind. “The Longbottom’s!” she cried out frantically. “We have to go!”

“Go? Hermione! What’re you-?”

“-Honestly!” Madam Pomfrey huffed. “I must insist, you need your rest.”

“I’m fine,” Hermione assured as she pushed back the covers of the bed. Harry grabbed her arms but that wouldn’t deter her at all. She was in the hospital wing, she noted absently. When had that happened? Seven hours and thirty-three minutes ago, her mind automatically supplied. 

“ _ Both _ of you,” the healer snapped.

“I’m fine!” Both Harry and Hermione quickly insisted. Hermione sighed and shook her head. “We don’t have time for this!” Hermione grabbed Harry’s arms, his hands still holding her forearms. “The Longbottom’s,” she explained to Harry seriously. Their eyes locked and Hermione tried to push the seriousness of what she was saying through them as best she could, “we need to go save them.”

Harry shook his head. He was confused. The Longbottom’s wouldn’t be attacked right away, not in the original timeline at least. And how had Hermione awoken with this knowledge? And how the hell had she automatically known they were in the past?

“What’s the date?” he asked quickly. 

Hermione made a face. “I beg your pardon?”

“The date, ‘Mione.”

“November 1, 1981…” Her eyes slowly widened. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder and her heart nearly stopped. James, Lily, and Sirius were all standing on the other side of the room watching her with startled expressions. Hermione whirled around to Harry. “What did you do?”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “What - I -- oi!”

Hermione slipped from the bed and glared at her bare legs beneath the hospital gown. “Where are my trousers?”

“Hermione, I need you to slow down.”

She looked up at him. “And I need proper clothes. We have to go. I’m sure we’re already behind as it is.”

“Behind on  _ what _ ?” Her frantic energy was setting him on edge. Hermione was rarely so panicked and Harry felt his magic flaring up in defence as if an unknown enemy would come beating down their door any moment.

Hermione grasped his shirt and tugged on it, trying to get her point across. Slowly she explained, “The Longbottom’s are being attacked by Death Eaters.”

“How do you know?” a voice questioned sharply. Hermione turned to Sirius who was eyeing her warily.

“I just do.”

“The same way you miraculously knew the date without thinking?”

“…yes?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. He nodded once. “Well, I’m on board. Let’s go.” He nodded to the door.

Hermione smiled brightly. She turned to Harry. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know why I even bother.” How did she manage to be the voice of reason all the time? He didn’t know. It was exhausting. He raised his hand and his clothes flew from the side cupboard of his bed and into it. He missed the startled looks of surprise from his family.

Hermione smiled brightly and turned to her own side cupboard where she produced her clothes. She quickly slipped her knickers and jeans on under her hospital gown. Harry did the same.

Madam Pomfrey was not amused by the turn of events. “Neither of you are fit to leave.” She gestured at Hermione. “You haven’t even had your potion.”

Hermione froze and glanced sidelong at the healer. 

Harry quirked a brow at Madam Pomfrey. “Potion? What potion?”

“No potion!” Hermione interjected quickly. Then, sure to distract the young wizard, she took off her top. Harry’s head snapped around to her before looking back at the others that she had her back to.

James and Lily were politely looking away while the former covered his son’s eyes. Sirius was smirking. “Oh, free show.”

Harry hexed him.

“Oi!”

Hermione turned to him once she had his quidditch jersey on. “We have to go,” she urged. Harry sighed and pulled off his own hospital gown.

“Lily, the potion?” Madam Pomfrey prompted the startled looking mother. 

Lily nodded and handed Poppy the finished, bright blue potion. 

Harry straightened his jumper and fixed his glasses. He narrowed his eyes at the familiar-looking potion. “Is that what I think it is?”

Hermione looked not unlike a startled deer. “No.”

Harry turned a fierce glare on the witch. “Hermione…”

“It’s fine!”

“Hermione!”

“What’s going on?” Sirius interjected quickly.

“That potion,” Harry explained through gritted teeth, “is to combat the aftereffects of overexposure to the Cruciatus curse. Hermione, you told me you didn’t need it anymore. We agreed not to come back to Hogwarts until you were fully healed.”

“I’m fine!”

“ _ Hermione! _ ” The temperature in the room seemed to drop at the fury in his tone. Harry’s magic flared in anger. 

Hermione poked him in the chest. “Don’t you ‘Hermione’ me, Harry James. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I do not need you to boss me around.”

“Apparently you do!”

James slowly shook his head. He glanced at his wife. “I’m having flashbacks.” Lily nodded in agreement. It was startlingly similar to Lily and James’ own fights when they’d been in school and even some of the ones they’d had once married. 

Hermione sighed and groaned dramatically. “What did I say about time, Harry?”

“That we don’t have enough of it,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Exactly!” The young witch snatched the potion from Madam Pomfrey’s startled and slightly offended hands before quickly downing it. She did not break eye contact with Harry the entire time. Once the potion was gone, Hermione stormed away.

“Don’t you walk away from me! This conversation is not over!”

“Put it on the back-burner!” she threw over her shoulder as she headed out of the hospital wing.

“Oh, I bloody well will,” Harry griped, mostly to himself. He stormed after her. 

James quickly handed baby Harry over to Poppy. “We’ll be back.”

The healer nodded and cuddled the toddler in her arms. “I’ll tell the Headmaster what’s happened. At least as much of it as I can understand.” James raised his eyebrows and they shared a look. No one knew what was going on. Poppy nodded towards where the others had left. “Go on now. We’ll be fine.”

James, Lily, and Sirius quickly followed the other two out of the Hospital Wing. Everything was about to change and they'd be damned if they weren't a part of the adventure to come.

END?

**Author's Note:**

> Oof -- the way my writing has changed. This fic is real old. That's all I wrote for this one, so I hope you enjoyed it! There's obviously so much left unsaid, but that's the joy of Evil Author Day, I don't need to promise you any answers 🤣


End file.
